Aoi Tori
by callat3am
Summary: Twoshot. No one had thought that our actions would have taken such a toll, and now he's entered out lives to bring back what we'd tried to bury into the past behind us-what we'd done to her. We couldn't forget her now. Based off of the movie Aoi Tori.
1. Chapter 1

**Aoi Tori**  
>(part 1)<p>

Inspired by the movie _Aoi Tori_.

**. . .**

Blossoms were in full bloom. If only it weren't for the windows; it was difficult to enjoy an obscured sight from behind the panes. One could watch them as they rained down from the second floor windows, but it wasn't the least bit equivalent to standing below the intersecting branches and watching the shower of cherry blossom rain. Teachers outside the gate greeting students had disappeared from sight into the shelter of a building. The school's courtyard was now vacant and deserted of all students and faculty alike. Cherry blossoms represent graduation. Soon to be a senior, but what was it but another school year to endure? Screw college. There was always McDonalds.

The clock struck eight. Trivial chat over recent exam scores never seemed to cease; I remembered my own score, and the effort it had taken to be listed as the first in the goddamn list. Why had I taken such strides? Eyes followed Morimoto, our homeroom teacher, as he walked into the room in his daily nonchalant manner. Attendance was taken and there was a pause, a slight interruption in the daily routine.

"It seems she's not here." Before Morimoto could say anything else, the students were already whispering and rumors are already flying around the classroom. Soon they would be throughout the entire school before the day was over; there wouldn't be anyone a soul who hadn't heard of the many variations generated at that very moment.

_Rise._

_Bow._

_Be seated._(1)

It was the last time of the year we'd ever rise and bow for him. Shortly after our spring break, we'd be rising and bowing for another. All a simple transaction from one's hands to those of another. That was the result of my efforts, I concluded, to be sorted into a new class and endure the rest of the year. The _nichoku_ (2) had gathered the attendance and Morimoto left to make his report. Idle chatter ensued.

I wasn't listening as Morimoto lectured and he was displeased. I knew it, but I was trying to enjoy the outdoor scenery;_ I_ was pretty displeased myself. Morimoto hated having the window open when cherry blossom were falling, and I usually ignored him, but I wasn't feeling very up for a rant. Maybe I should say instead, Morimoto hated me. He was asking me questions but I was too lazy to give him an answer other than a 'Hn.'

"Hey, bastard. The class does _not_ revolve around you."

I was already fancying a quiet teacher for the following school year, one that would be intimidated by my silence, ignore my presence, and actually _shut up_. It was too bad that Morimoto wasn't that kind of man. Another week of dealing with this bastard and I'd be free. I was answering anyways, since his outburst was drawing unneeded attention. Eyes were glued on me, and my hands tightened into fists. I hated unnecessary attention.

Someone beat me to it somewhere on the other side of the classroom and I heaved a sigh. It's not like I wasn't listening. I'd heard the question, but simply didn't want to answer. Classmates seemed to have taken my silence for not having heard the teacher or not knowing. I damn well knew the answer.

Morimoto smiled. Of course, it must have been the teacher's pet.

It was then that I saw it. Wet and limping on its way to the main building. There were commotions in the classrooms next door as they caught sight of the same thing and from my view of the window I lifted the frame to gaze down below. Many of my classmates were doing the same. Morimoto was distracted by the noise next door and had gone to rebuke them. No doubt he'd be looking at the same thing soon. Already I could hear him roaring impudently at the other class, ignorant of the current happening.

I was sick of the sight of everyone watching but no one bothering extending a hand to help the poor creature. They were nosing into another's business, yet keeping a far distance, where poison dripped from their lips and disdain and fear lurked in their eyes.

Though, I'm no different, as I too was watching it from afar.

I'd seen that creature before, pitiful quiet thing, always doing its best to keep out of others' way. Doing the best it could to please people with its daily ritual. I'd known it for a long time. Whenever it turned to me with eyes that subtly pleaded for help but with lips that formed words asking whether there was anything it could do for me, I would only joined in like the rest of them, giving her a chore or asking a favor with that _same damn smirk on my lips_. I'm really no different.

Take this, reader: the image of a thin—too thin—girl hobbling towards the school building and with her dark wet hair plastered to her face, obscuring most of her face from view. Her uniform is heavy on her, darkened with water, and it seems to almost be the source of what is weighinged her down. It's almost as if she's dragging weights behind her as she goes. I can't couldn't see her eyes from the second floor, but I know knew they we're dead. There was's no life behind them. And by the looks of it, it had's been a long time since there ever washad ever been life in those glassy eyes.

You can see what I'm getting to, I suppose.

She'd entered the building and heads had shot back behind window panes. Morimoto wasn't's not back yet; he and some of the other faculty members must have had descended to pay her a visit. Interrogate her probably, not that they'd get anything out of it. I _knew_ her. And she'd rather hang herself than give put the blame on anyone other than herself.

So gullible a person was she;, she was completely susceptible to being used.

"_Hey, buy me a melon bread, okay? The kinds I like." _

"_It's my turn to clean the board today, but I have something to do…. Can you do it for me?"_

Cliché. It was something you watched saw in movies and read in comics. When it happens, it doesn't feel like something cliché, buta a moment of thought after sitting back and taking the time to think it over, one realizes just how cliché that moment was and had been. But what exactly defines cliché? It was but things of widespread occurrences, which termed it 'cliché'. Of course, this treatment was but of the most common ways of bullying in student life. Cliché student life, that is.

Morimoto had returned to the classroom, finally remembered what he's paid forto do, I supposed. She came from behind him, following suite. The classroom was hushed as she walked in and took her seat behind me. As she'd neared me, I'd felt the coldest of chills. It was hardly the temperature, as I sat in one of the seats that had the chance opportunity of basking in warm sunlight. I know now that it 's was guilt. Yet at that time, I recognized and refused to acknowledge that feeling of guilt.

Snickers sounded from somewhere in the back row and I turned around to silence them with the deadliest glare I could muster. They were delinquents who sat in the back, lurked around the school and tried to stir up fights. Before one of them, Karin, she sat quietly, her head down and wet hair clinging to a dry and new set of the girls' uniform. She must have gotten it from the faculty, but it was two sizes too large for her. The skirt reached up to her ankles, unlike the usual skirting around the knees. Her eyes were cast down, as if she was a repenting criminal. _Turn around_, a voice in my mind spoke; _she doesn't want to see you_. I did, with heavy regret.

"Uchiha. If you'll will finally attend class now…."

The clock struck twelve and lunchtime came around the corner with an ominous sense of dread; I awaited the oncoming onslaught.

**. . .**

Students began to gather in groups and some left the classroom, probably to eat on the roof or other places around the school. Most stayed in the classroom and took their boxed lunches out where they were, friends by the many.

Daily routine as it was, she was immediately encircled by a group of approximately ten—half of the class. Her eyes were still downcast and she pulled out her bag, emptying it of two-thirds of the content. She pulled out a variety of bread and boxed meals while hands reached out to snag their claim.

"D-did I get it right, Yamanaka-san?"

"Yeah, that's right. Thanks so much, Hyuu-chan!"

This was said with a terrible smile towards her direction. The poor girl had missed it, with her eyes downcast like that. She hadn't seen the terrible malice hidden behind the plastic smile. Of course she didn't. She never did. Or at least, she never _seemed_ to.

As I continued to glower at the crowd, I did my best to ignore another group I knew wouldn't give up in their attempts to—

"Want to eat lunch with us, Uchiha-kun?"

There—a horde of hormonal girls who amassed at my table and wouldn't leave me alone. I'd denied them before, and it would _never_ hurt to deny them again.

"No."

"Aww, why not?" Yamanaka Ino cooed. I tried my best to suppress my disgust and maintain a poker face. She leaned lower, hands behind her back, as if I didn't know what it was for. I clenched my hand into a fist as her cleavage came into view. The horde misread my reaction and began to giggle and squirm amongst one another.

"Why? I'm not under the impression that I was obliged to."

"Really…," she cooed/whined, her hand reaching out. I hardly needed to shrink back against my chair; a chair had scooted back behind my seat and Yamanaka's hand was immediately stopped by that girl's. Her downcast gaze permitted her fringe to veil her eyes from sight.

"U-Uchiha-kun doesn't want to. P-please leave him be." Her lips were trembling as she spoke, causing her to stutter. But her stutter wasn't because of infatuation over me, but of fear, of not only everyone else in the room, but me. She _especially_ feared me. And it wasn't because I was some big bad wolf.

"Don't touch me!"

Yamanaka's screech was as clear and piercing. Her eyes flamed as she retaliated immediately, slapping the girl's hand away from her own. "'Doesn't want to, is it? You're not Uchiha-kun! So don't talk so familiarly as if you're close to him!"

She took one look at me and she blushed, deciding to change her approach. "I-I didn't mean that, Hyuu-chan. But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't nose into people's business without knowing anything."

Hypocrites. All of them.

"I can't eat with a crowd around me," I declared and excused myself. I'd barely taken a step outside of the classroom before I deeply regretted my action. If I left, Yamanaka would take the chance to assault her. I nearly halted, wanting to turn around and take my seat again. _Turn back_, a voice in my mind urged, but pride's grasp on me was strong. I continued to walk, with my head high. I couldn't turn around now when I'd decided to leave. I couldn't go back on my words.

I was truly the worst. For the sake of pride, I'd left the room, leaving her defenseless and vulnerable. I left, knowing she would be targeted as soon as I was out of sight and hearing range.

And what's worse is that it wouldn't just be Yamanaka, but the by the entire class as well.

It was no wonder she feared me the most.

**. . .**

We're a cruel class, to be taking out all our stress and anger upon this poor girl who had done nothing to deserve this treatment. Most of us didn't believe that we were bullying her, but after thinking about it, we realized that we were. Would simple dislike consider as bullying? Was the action of disliking her wrong? What exactly defined bullying?

"_D-Did I get it right, Uchiha-kun? I-I tried my best to find it."_

_Stop. I don't want to hear these words from you._

It wasn't a nightmare, because it was only just afterschool and the bell had just rung. The classroom was deserted and I too, had left it for my club. I'd come back to get something I'd left in my desk and reintroduced myself into the hall of classrooms filled with a warm orange glow. The room was warm and I had slid open the door.

And I was immediately greeted by her silent presence. The wallflower that she was.

Only that she wasn't talking to me. She was staring at the blackboard, unmoving, still in her seat, as if she'd never heard the bell ring and never seen the students dash out of the classroom, abandoning her there as I'd abandoned here at lunch.

But it was an eerie silence.

"Hyuuga-san."

She didn't move as I neared her and greeted her. My desk was before hers and it felt uncomfortable to be under her gaze. I didn't look at her the whole time since I'd entered the classroom, ashamed of what I'd done to her. I'd left her alone to fend for herself in a room of enemies and hadn't looked back to even spare her a glance. She had all the right to blame me and to hate me, and I wouldn't object. I would hate the person too, if I had been left that way.

But I knew that she wouldn't. She was too kind. Wasn't she?

"Look," I began, turning around slowly to face her. "I know what I did today was wrong, that I was cruel to you."

And I was cut off by my own terror at the sight of her, or rather, what was below her endlessly gazing, hollow eyes.

I was screaming, so unlike my usual self, screaming for the world to hear.

It was a scream of horror, of rage—and of regret.

**. . .**

"It's okay, Uchiha-kun. It had nothing to do with you," words were whispered beside my ear and hands were stroking my back in vain in attempt to sooth my spiking terror. I wasn't in the classroom anymore, but in the courtyard, feeling beside myself. There was a great ruckus and students who were at their clubs had rushed out to see what all the commotion was about and why the entire faculty had rushed out to greet the ambulance and stretcher.

I knew better. They didn't know how horrible our class had been. How we had tormented her throughout the year. And now, she wouldn't be with us for the graduation day.

I made my way away from the crowd and sought the parking spot for bikes.

"What are you doing, Uchiha-kun? Don't blame yourself for this."

I didn't answer. My hands were shaking as I unlocked my bike and pulled it away from the rail.

"Come now, we'll take you home when you're feeling stable."

"I'm very calm, ma'am."

I fled from the scene. Fled from the people who pretended to understand our complex feelings. From the people who claimed to guarantee our safety. The bitches and bastards who knew nothing of the reason to Hyuuga's attempted suicide.

Not that I knew myself. I took a detour from my usual route as thoughts mixed around my confused state. The lady hadn't chased me after I'd left school property, but I was sure she'd be back tomorrow, with a TV crew as they reported and misunderstood the entire incident. Or perhaps Hyuuga had written a suicide letter explaining it all in layman terms. Not that she would do such a thing. I—we knew her to this extent for the very least.

Wrong turn. I turned around, nearly hitting a mother and her son as they crossed the street hand in hand. As I skimmed their feet, I could hear her suddenly quickened breath and her son's gasp as they flinched at my closeness. I didn't hear the words she was shouting as I continued down my path. Did Hyuuga feel the same way? Cornered with accelerating breathing as she brought the blade down upon her wrist? I flinched at the image of it and my bike wavered. What was originally a waver turned into complete unsteadiness and I felt the bike tumble off of the road and down onto the grassy slope of the riverbank.

I fell on my back onto the green and let my bike clatter downhill for the while.

What was the point of it all? I'm sure that it's a question that everyone has asked themselves before. I can't say that Hyuuga's attempt at suicide was a large blow to my life, but the fact that she tried and the whole aftermath would. Life is so often taken for granted and we don't often take the chance to enjoy what we have. How many people walk down a street, no matter how busy they are, to take a moment off to admire the whole natural system around them? The shadows the trees cast, how the trees seem to breathe, the delicacy of a sprout, oxygen and carbon dioxide that is pumped in and out of our bloodstream, and the simple idea of existence and life? It's only when we feel a closeness to death that we feel an equivocal closeness to life.

Hyuuga's action broke it all. I've always considered suicide to be something that would never happen within my lifetime. Something that would stay far from my life. It was a selfish thing, something that once tried, would tear down oneself for the rest of one's life. I'd never tried to cut the string that held me to life, and so suddenly was exposed to such an incident. It was all too sudden…and yet all expected. Who wouldn't expect Hyuuga to attempt suicide after her months of torment? Torment that she apparently tried to hide from everyone and even herself. Or maybe she _was_ trying to express it, but couldn't find a way to ask for help.

It wasn't that we had been stressed either. It wasn't that we were trying to murder helplessness.

I rode past her family store on my way home. The lights were on.

**. . .**

Her desk disappeared from the classroom, having been moved into the storage room. How could we face the fact that our actions had nearly killed one of our fellow students?

_Rise._

_Bow._

_Be seated._

It occurred to me as I stole a glance around the room that everyone wanted to forget that it had ever happened. To put it all behind us. Her attempt had taken us by surprise, lifted us into the air, shook us, and then thrown us back onto the ground to think it all over. And we were past all four steps, only to settle for the fifth—realization.

"U-Uchiha-kun." I looked up from my seat to see the substitute teacher now looking down upon me with his minister-like face. His eyes were so morose and looked as if he was picked up from a funeral. Of course, not Hyuuga's. Not that she had one. She'd been brutally seized from her desired death and thrown back into life. That time when I'd discovered her and screamed, her eyes had taken focus away from the blackboard and laid them upon me. I couldn't forget what she'd barely managed to whisper as I had shaken her from Death's door. I too, wanted to forget like my fellow classmates.

"W-Where is…H-Hyuuga-san's desk?"

The entire class was still.

We could hear nothing other than our stilled breathing, the light feathery thumping in our chests that kept us alive.

"Why?" My voice sounded loud in my ears. It was a harsh and grating sound produced from my dry throat.

He said nothing, but turned to look at the student who now sat behind me. She stiffened, but continued to stare at her desk surface. Now that the silence was broken, someone coughed from the other side of the room and she shrank slightly in her seat, raising her eyes to meet the substitute.

"I don't know." _She didn't, did she now?_

"Can the t-two nichoku please b-bring the desk back?"

And out the nichoku went from our room, slowly, finding the task all too strange and themselves not wanting to comply. We were silent when they left but our ears throbbed with the sole sound in the room—the clock's ticking. They returned shortly with the desk and chair in their arms which they lugged across the room again until they came to a stop beside me.

The noise of desks and chairs scooting against the floor sounded. Hyuuga's desk was restored to its rightful place behind me. My breath came out ragged, though it escaped notice. He stood beside me, but his eyes were upon the desk with her name stamped upon it.

"G-Good morning, Hyuuga-san."

We froze, eyes on our desk and chills rippling down our spine.

**. . .**

"What's that substitute teacher's name again?"

"Sarutobi Asuma, I think."

"He stammers."

"Yeah."

"Pfft. 'T-Take y-your s-seat, c-class.'"

"He doesn't stammer that much," I commented, as I reclined into a chair and sipped the soda. Uzumaki Naruto looked at me. His words hadn't been humorous, but out of irritation and perhaps distaste. Never hatred. Uzumaki Naruto could not hate. He couldn't bring himself to. Yet none of us had appreciated Sarutobi's reminder of our crime. We wanted to forget it, to forget that it had ever happened. We wanted to forget our actions. But most of all, we wanted to forget that she ever existed.

A suicide letter had indeed been found, which reasoned her attempt, but also listed three names—names of the people she considered to be at fault. It was published on our school newspaper a while ago, the day after her attempt, but the names were censored out. Two people had been taken to the office, and we knew who they were, but who was the third? It left us hanging. Quiet as we were in class, eyes of accusation burned into the backs of classmates other students felt to be responsible. No one looked at me or was I taken to the office for questioning, but I wished that my name was the third one that she'd mentioned. I wished that I was taken for interrogation. I wished that I was the one to blame.

"Hey Sasuke, do you think we were really driving her insane? To the point that she would want to kill herself?"

"Are you really asking me this? What other factors would have caused her to do such a thing?"

"I didn't mean that. I meant: were we really bullying her? Do you think we were?"

"I don't know." And after a stretch of silence, "I wish I was the third person."

"I know who it is. My mom got the info from some friends in the PTA. They saw the uncensored version."

He lifted his drink and took a sip.

"It wrote: 'and everyone else'."

**. . .**

A box was installed on the bulletin board, a blue bird painted on it. The announcements introduced it to us, requesting that were we to feel that we needed advice or wanted to ask questions, we could write it on a small sheet of paper and throw it into the box. The box would then be emptied by the end of the day during a class meeting and the questions would be answered by the teachers present at the meeting.

Ridiculous.

It had two flaws.

Expectation that we would involve them in our problems, that we would find people who couldn't even save Hyuuga from our class.

Expectation that they _could answer our problems_, finding solutions to problems that they were unfamiliar with.

It was all a matter of trust. And it was something the school had lost ever since that incident.

Sarutobi too, was complained to because of his daily morning routine. He would enter the classroom, take attendance, walk over to Hyuuga's seat, and greet her nonexistence.

"_Good morning, Hyuuga-san."_

Parents who both student and parents wanted to forget complained to the school admin, demanding Sarutobi's removal. They protested the same things we protested, the reminder of Hyuuga's attempted suicide. 'Was he really trying to accuse the class as murderers,' they constantly asked. He never answered them.

**. . .**

"This is the first meeting."

Morino Ibiki, a neighboring homeroom teacher stood erect at the blackboard. We were in another classroom on another floor, and desks were gathered into a circle in which we sat facing one another. Our two nichoku of the day sat before the blackboard and facing us, _Aoi Tori_ (3) (as we'd come to name the box), between them on the table.

"Please empty the box."

The nichoku stood up and unlocked the back of the box. The two proceeded to pull out crumpled sheets and lay them on the table. Rather than questions, the box had been filled with street advertisements, tissues, and other pieces of trash. There was only one folded sheet of paper found that truly dictated a question, though I suppose the whole composite of trash could metaphorically ask one too. Was _Aoi Tori_ truly efficient as it was claimed to be?

Morino said nothing at the sight of trash, but when the nichoku pulled out the folded sheet, he demanded, "Read it out loud."

One of the nichoku, Nara Shikamaru, read hesitantly, "What is _Aoi Tori_?"

Morino took a long look at the uncomfortable Nara and extended a hand for the sheet. Upon reading it personally, he folded it back into its original state and shifted his position, glaring at us.

"_Aoi Tori_ is here for you to seek advice from us and ask questions. Consider it as a counseling method."

There were no more questions found in the box. It was locked up again.

"You are dismissed."

**. . .**

I rode past the Hyuuga family store again. This time, lights were off and a rental notice was taped onto the door. I added the phone number it listed onto my cellphone, but didn't call.


	2. Chapter 2

**Aoi Tori  
><strong>(part 2)

"G-Good morning, Hyuuga-san."

_Not._

Sarutobi had entered the classroom and found the desk missing. Some of the other rougher classmates had thrown it outside and into the chaotic downpour where it was all but exposed to the dreary and ruthless weather. Sarutobi barely said a word before he disappeared from the classroom, in search of the desk, our eyes escorting him out the classroom.

We sat still in our seats, wondering what it was that made him so determined to greet her empty seat every morning and go out of his way to remind us of our transgression. Was he trying to humiliate us for the rest of the week? To scold us indirectly for our actions? To make us feel regret? Or did he secretly meet Hyuuga? Was it her secret request, for this to serve as retribution?

We heard him before we saw him, wet shoes squeaking against the floor. He reentered the room with the desk in his arms, and he lugged it across the room and beside me, leaving a wet trail behind him and a puddle beside me. One of the nichoku stood up and took a mop from the back of the room, ready to clean the wet mess, but his gentle eyes guided him back to his seat.

Chairs and desks scooted backwards again and Hyuuga's desk was restored.

Déjà vu.

"G-Good morning, Hyuuga-san."

**. . .**

"You were the ones who threw the desk out into the rain right?" Yamanaka Ino walked up to Inuzuka Kiba's desk and looked him in the eye. Inuzuka leaned back in his chair and scowled to her face.

"Yeah? So what? I know you all wanted it out of the room."

"Despicable."

"What did you say, you bitch?"

"You guys were always bullying her! You guys started it!"

"So what? Don't think I don't know what you girls secretly do. I know what _you_ did, Yamanaka."

"Shut up."

"You've been sending emails around telling all the girls to ignore Haruno Sakura right?"

"Shut up!"

"Just because of some stupid fight. You're sneaky, the whole lot of you!"

"You started bullying Hyuuga first!"

"Numbers don't matter!" Uzumaki Naruto stood up and clutched onto Inuzuka's collar as Haruno broke into tears and dashed out of the room. "Look, arguing isn't going to do anything about it!"

"Oh, I thought you liked Haruno?" Inuzuka taunted.

"What the _fuck_?" Uzumaki shoved Inuzuka into a cluster of desks. Two others were caught in the jumble in an attempt to pull them off of one another and all but chaos ensued. There were screams as people dashed away from the two wrestling with one another. Desks and chairs were shoved aside, clattering into other desks and chairs as they brawled viciously. I felt faintly irritated at it all along with a strong desire to break them up and tried to do so, shoving Uzumaki away from Inuzuka and holding the latter back from it all.

"What the hell is this?"

Morino Ibiki. Fuck.

"What do you fools not get about the school value that clearly states 'think before you act'! What's going on? How did this start?" He glowered angrily around the room and grit his teeth as he stepped closer to the three of us.

"Uzumaki? Inuzuka?" Finally turning his eyes to me and anger dissolved from his eyes, replaced with disappointment. "Uchiha, you too?"

I didn't reply.

"Alright everyone, to the counseling room!"

"Even the girls too?" one of them gasped.

"Of course!"

"Mr. Morino."

Our attention was diverted by the soft and mellow voice that was Sarutobi.

"I'm sure…that they understand."

**. . .**

The second class meeting took place, though no one expected us to get anything out of it. What could the teachers hope for? A new case where they could solve everything and prevent another case like Hyuuga's from happening again?

"Please empty the box."

The two new _nichoku_ repeated the same steps as the ones before them had. Again, there were only advertisement sheets and trash. Accompanied by two folded sheets. Morino looked a little more hopeful at it now, and he asked that the first be read.

"It's the same as last time's, Mr. Morino."

"Read it."

"What is _Aoi Tori_?"

The class was silent, and so was Morino. He took a look around the class, before dismissing the question and asking for the next sheet.

"Is disliking someone the same as bullying?"

Sarutobi had joined this class meeting, and he stood at the windows, looking out as we had when Hyuuga had arrived on school grounds dripping wet and lugging her bag and body towards the school building. Watching.

"Of course it is," Morino scowled. "When you dislike someone, you're bullying them." His eyes swept around the room. "Is that it? If so, you are dismi—"

I raised my hand, thrusting it angrily into the air. I locked my eyes onto Morino's, and his onto mine. Eyes were upon me now, as they wondered what would be of this nonconformist—the one and only person to participate voluntarily in the class meeting—the only person who didn't sit tightly in his/her chair and block out all sound and wish that everything would be over quickly.

"What is it, Uchiha?"

"What makes disliking someone an act of bullying?"

"When you dislike someone, you do unnecessary and terrible things to them. _That_ is called bullying."

"Have you ever disliked someone?"

He scoffed. "If I did, I wouldn't be a teacher."

"Not as in a student or school-wise."

His eyes were serious now, and he straightened up from his initial leaning posture. In a single change in stance, he had become a dangerous man. "Is that all you learn these days? To counteract and retort to what we say?"

"That's not what—"

"H-He's speaking e-earnestly," Sarutobi interrupted. He finally took his eyes away from the window and closed the pane. He turned around to face the fuming Morino and said gently, "It's out of p-pure and h-honest curiosity, not to f-frustrate." He turned to me now. "W-When you dislike someone, y-you're not b-bullying that person. But w-when you take actions upon that p-person and are aware that it h-hurts them, then it b-becomes bullying.

"D-Do you understand, U-Uchiha-kun?"

Was it? I found his words to be impervious, taking into account his daily routine. Sarutobi would, every morning arrive into the classroom and greet Hyuuga Hinata's empty desk before the sinners who couldn't bring themselves to repent. He _knew_ what influence his words brought upon us, and continued to do so regardless. Was that in itself not a form of bullying? In other words, he was defining his own actions, wasn't he?

I did the same thing that I had when I was confronted with Hyuuga's attempted suicide.

I fled.

"_Hey Sasuke, do you think we were really driving her insane? To the point that she would want to kill herself?"_

"_Are you really asking me this? What other factors would have caused her to do such a thing?"_

"_I didn't mean that. I meant: were we really bullying her? Do you think we were?"_

"_I don't know."_

It was the whole guilt factor right? The whole 'you undermined a life's value' right? It must be what he was getting at. Graduation day was coming soon and we had all been looking forwards to it. All except Hyuuga, but that didn't matter to us. It was like the story where a group of children on Venus locked a girl in a closet preventing her from seeing the sun. It hadn't mattered to us, but now it would. Now we were regretting our actions. Sarutobi was like the sun appearing in the Venus sky. He was the one who introduced us to the feeling of regret.

A while ago, my class was told to write a letter to Hyuuga—or more like _an essay as if we were writing to her_. The first draft held our honest and pure feelings—something near repenting, but not quite there. They weren't satisfied. We were required to edit it and the teachers to revise it according to what was considered appropriate. 5 pages, was the new standard for the 'letter.' Yet the new and revised versions had become something that was no longer us. It no longer spoke of truthfully and there was hardly variation between the letters.

They'd become the same.

_It's wrong, what we did. I too, felt that what we did was cruel and dehumanizing, but I was too cowardly to do anything to stop it. I know that saying sorry doesn't help with anything, but I truly regret what I did._

Wrong. All wrong.

I found myself at the door to our classroom, the classroom where I'd found Hyuuga's dying and bleeding body. I slid open the door, but didn't want to enter the room. It was afternoon, and the sun was ruthless enough to cast the same setting glow upon the room—the same damn warm orange hue.

"Uchiha-kun?"

To hear the soft and tentative voice was like a slap to the face. She was there, sitting at her desk, but she rose to greet me. Fumbling, her fingers dug inside her bag and she pulled out a pack of onigiri from the convenient store across the street.

"D-Did I get it right? I tried hard to get it right."

"Stop it, Hyuuga-san."

"So you too, like them—"

"NO!"

I tore my way into the classroom, shoving my way to the desk, not knowing why this was happening to me, why her idea still haunted me even after she was gone even after she'd moved to some other prefecture that the school newspaper had mentioned but I hadn't remembered. I threw my backpack onto my desk and dug out an eraser. _If I erased her presence. If only I could erase evidence of her presence._ The eraser rubbed furiously on the stamp on the desk's surface, trying to destroy her name.

I used to love her. Hell, I used to _fucking love _her. And I still do. She was the only one I thought was different from everyone else. Slim with long, dark hair and pearlescent eyes. Always a smile on her thin lips. I couldn't even come close to hating her. It was impossible for me to hate her kind and gentle personality. But I treated her all the same as every other person did. Like trash.

Burning. A burning sensation. Fury. Tears.

I didn't know when it was that I realized I wasn't alone in the room. "Why did you bring back Hyuuga's desk?" I whispered, clenching the eraser tightly in my hand. I whirled on my heels and faced the doorway, where Sarutobi stood. "Why do you do this to us? Why do you talk to it every morning? Why are you there to constantly remind us of what we did? What _she_ did?"

My heart was accelerating and my vision was all a blur, blurred from the tears that had run down my cheeks and onto her desk. I wanted answers. Answers as to _why _he gave a fucking shit to go out of his way and bring back what we wanted to forget.

He was silent for a long time as we stared at one another from across the room. It was a long while before he spoke.

"Hyuuga-san w-wanted to be here, in this r-room…w-with you all. But he can't."

"And so you put the desk here."

"B-because no one took her s-seriously, I-I restored her to this c-class. I w-wanted to give her the best attention."

"She'll never know what you did for her! Why can't you just let us forget?" My voice trembled and my throat was painful, strained. I fell back against Hyuuga's desk, seeking comfort that was never there to begin with. Pitiful. "Is this punishment?"

"S-She isn't…but you all are."

"T-this isn't punishment," Sarutobi continued with a smile, "but responsibility. To f-forget and start a-anew is cowardly. Y-you all did something terrible to H-Hyuuga-san and she'll never forget you. She may h-hate you, or harbor a g-grudge against you, but she'll never forget. Therefore you must never f-forget her. Never f-forget what you did to her. _That_ is your responsibility."

"_Hey, can you buy me some chips? Like, sneak outside of school during lunch?" _

"_Heh, that's kind of difficult…."_

I'd never felt more ashamed for the times that I'd asked her to help me with some terrible favor and she would look at me for a split second, almost as if saying, "You too, Uchiha-kun?" with those sad eyes. She'd give a weak little laugh and do it anyways, only to receive another request and she'd look at them too with her sad eyes, pleading for them to stop. She probably thought we never noticed. But I did. Monster.

He said finally, "Never forget what you're feeling now."

Without a stutter.

**. . .**

Sarutobi Asuma stood on the roof of the school, just behind the wired gate. From the view of a person who just reached the roof, it would have looked to be as if he were surveying the cityscape. But a closer look would reveal a photo in his hand. A photo that held fourteen smiling faces of his former students from another school, and himself included. It would also reveal the timid and gloomy face of a girl to the farmost right of the photo.

The face of Hinata Hyuuga.

He pocketed the nostalgic photo and went to the next class.

****. . .** **

"Hey, tell me."

"Yeah?"

"The only time you got along with Inuzuka was when you two were bullying Hyuuga," I asked Uzumaki as we washed our faces after PE class. It was the last class of the day and there was another class meeting afterwards. The third one. Unfortunately today, it was my turn to be nichoku along with Aburame Shino. I would have to meet with Morino, something I didn't like in particular, considering that I ran from his class before we were dismissed.

"Heh…yeah."

I wallowed in that thought and his confirmation. "That's despicable."

"Yeah…w-wait. Did you just say 'despicable'?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Hnn…it is."

"Do think that she's made some friends at her new school?"

A short pause. Then a faint smile. "Hell yeah, I think so! Definitely. There're definitely a lot of better people than we are."

I couldn't help but to agree with his words. We were terrible to her, but there definitely had to be schools with people who would be kind to her and accept her, rather than use her for the sake of entertainment. It was dehumanizing.

"I'm glad she's alive," Uzumaki said suddenly, breaking the silence. I looked at him, and he was staring at the sky, something that Nara would do. Forget the class meeting, I told myself, and I too raised my head to stare at the expanse of cloudless blue.

"I'm glad too."

**. . .**

It was the wrong time. He came into the room as he always did, a near-shuffle.

"Mr. Sarutobi…the next teacher isn't you."

"I a-asked the teacher to switch w-with me." The chatter died down eventually, and all attention swerved to his podium and where he stood. He held a folder and notebook in his hand which he set on the podium. From the folder, he pulled out a pile of lined paper which he set again on the podium on top of the folder which he arranged and neatened up with his fingertips.

"Today is the last d-day that I will teach here. Mr. M-Morimoto will return tomorrow."

"Last day, huh," Uzumaki muttered from his seat beside me. Whispers ran through the room, a quiet commotion.

"For the last d-day, I would l-like you all to write an e-essay. Please try to r-remember the essay you wrote l-last week. Reflect upon it, a-and if you are truly s-satisfied with that essay…then you will not h-have to do so. Otherwise, you may c-come up here and take however many s-sheets you'd like…and rewrite the essay t-the way you want it. This time you're not w-writing for the school…but for yourself."

His instructions had left us at an awkward silence, which we sneaked glances at one another, wondering who would be the first to rise. It didn't help that Sarutobi was standing at the podium looking at us all.

Yamanaka was first to act, but she didn't rise for lined paper—but to take out a book and begin to read. One would think that she could finally let go of whatever grudge she had towards Hyuuga. Many followed her example and took out something to do, anything but rewriting their essay.

The first to take a sheet was Uzumaki. He rose and walked slowly and gracelessly up to the podium. "I can only write one page…is that okay?" Sarutobi nodded. By the time Haruno had risen and taken five sheets, not looking at Sarutobi as she did, a few who had chosen otherwise slowly put away whatever they were doing and rose for lined paper one after another.

I rose too, unable to accept the revised exam that I had written before. It was what the school wanted to say, not what _I _wanted to say. Yet upon returning to my desk, I found it difficult to begin. If I were truly delivering this to Hyuuga, what would I say to her in an honest and unrevised manner that was truly me?

I started with a title, '_Reflection Essay_' but that was to write for the school. I erased other attempts so much it left a dark mark, ghosts of the characters I'd written before.

It was a letter. A letter to Hyuuga. And letters began with the word "dear."

_Dear Hyuuga_,

_Your desk is still in this classroom. It's to help us be aware of where you are or what you might be doing. So that we never forget. To recall what it was like when you sat there, to wonder what it would be like if you were still here. Hyuuga, I've never wanted to see someone and talk to her as much as I do now. Hyuuga, I'll never forget those eyes of yours when you looked at me and that the blacked-out part of your note should have included my name first. I'll always, always remember that. Hyuuga, I know it's too late to do anything, but this is the only thing I can do. To never forget you. That's my only option. But even as I write this, I still don't trust myself. Because I'm so dishonest. Because I'm so cowardly._

Some time while I was writing this letter, Sarutobi left the classroom.

This time, for real.

He'd finished what he'd come to do.

**. . .**

**A/N**: (1) – in Japan, people rise and bow before the teacher upon entrance. The _nichoku_ announce this and the class does it all simultaneously. It is said "_kiritsu, rei, chakuseki_."  
>(2) – <em>Nichoku<em> are the "class leader of the day," hence "_ni (__日__)_"which means "day." The lead the morning greeting and do what they can to help the teacher.  
>(3) – <em>Aoi Tori<em> means "Blue bird"

**Disclaimer**: Based off of the movie _Aoi Tori_. _Very_ closely followed. All I did was put Kishimoto's characters into the story and modify a few things to meet my needs.

Sasuke's rewritten letter included in this fanfiction is actually the exact wording as it was in the movie, except that 'Noguchi' was replaced with 'Hyuuga.' I thank the people who had translated the movie's subtitles for that :) So that's another disclaimer.

Something big was bothering me as I was writing this fanfiction, and it was the fact that actually the substitute teacher, Mr. Murauchi, had actually taught Noguchi before in another school, which was why he understood him to some extent. In the movie, he held a photograph and looked at it every once in a while and it was a class picture from the other school which had both him and Noguchi in it, but I wasn't able to really incorporate that into this fanfiction because it was all based on Sasuke's viewpoint. It's there, but not really fitting. Same goes for the teacher meetings. I couldn't incorporate them in here either.

But anyways, hope you enjoyed _Aoi Tori_ :)


End file.
